Battle Scars
by kmc995
Summary: Akihito finally sees the damage he's done to Hiromi's back. Can he deal with the guilt that threatens to consume him at the mere sight of the ravaged skin?


Hello :) is my first story for Kyoukai no Kanata (aka Beyond the Boundary). I just started watching it, and I fell in love with Hiromi and Akihito like IMMEDIATELY! And what makes it even better is the fact that the voice actor who plays Hiromi Nase also plays Makoto Tachibana on Free! Iwatobi Swim Club. I LOVVVEEEE these two and I simultaneously ship them romantically and just as a cute bromance, you know?

I decided I needed to write a story for this anime right away because there were a total of 8 other stories…so I thought I needed to contribute something! Beginning is rather rushed...really, the whole thing seems to be.

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own KnK or Hiromi or Akihito

**Battle Scars**

Akihito can't find anyone today. No Mitsuki, no Izumi…he wonders if everyone has left the Nase household and just decided to leave him in the dark. Still, he heads over to Hiromi's room, half expecting him to be MIA like the other Nase children. Reaching his room, Akihito knocks loudly and pronounces, "I'm coming in!"

He opens the door and pauses, unexpectedly seeing Hiromi. It is obvious that he just got out of the showers – his black hair is even darker with moisture and he is standing shirtless with his back towards Akihito.

Hiromi visibly stiffens, but stills.

Akihito chokes and has to catch himself on the doorframe. He sees a back ravaged by scars. He'd never seen them before.

"Is there something you need, Akkey?" Hiromi asks quietly, crossing his arms across his chest. The action moves the muscles in his back, pulling the scars in gruesome ways.

"I—" he can't get enough oxygen. He'd tried to ignore the possibility for years, but now it was staring him quite literally in the face.

Before he knows what he's doing, Akihito is standing right behind Hiromi. The taller man makes no indication that he's moved so close, but surely he can hear the ragged gasps he's trying to suppress?

He lifts a hand and it hovers just barely over Hiromi's back. He can feel the heat radiating off of it and onto his palm. He closed his eyes, bracing himself as best he could for the confirmation he knew would come with his next words. "This was me?" he whispered roughly. He hadn't meant for it to come out as a question.

Silence permeated the room for a few long moments. Hiromi's back was still towards Akihito, so it was impossible to tell what his expression was.

"Yes." Emotionless.

Though he had expected it, the validation that he had done this to him hit him like a ton of bricks. His breathing hitched and the fingers hovering above Hiromi's back curled into a fist in an attempt to stop the violent shaking that now racked his immortal body.

How could he have never known? Hiromi was always covered up in layers – shirt, winter blazer, and scarf. He'd never had the opportunity to see him so exposed…and yet that is no excuse for this.

Akihito brought his shaking hand back and, this time, gently laid it across the top of the scar. Hiromi stiffened and uncrossed his arms, a gasp at the unexpected action escaping his lips. For a moment, Akihito thought he was going to pull away and tell him to leave. Who would want the monster who did this anywhere near them, after all? But he didn't, and Akihito wasn't sure if we was relieved or angry.

Flashbacks of the night it happened slammed unbidden into his mind.

_Blood soaked hands. Unconscious body. Hiromi. Hiromi's unconscious body. Blood seeping through the high grass of an abandoned field. Bruised skies. Hollow cries into the night. Holding Hiromi's body in his lap as hot blood continued to pour out of his wounds, soaking his clothes. Rocking back and forth to the labored sounds of his breathing: Hiromi, I'm sorry. Hiromi, I'm sorry. Hiromi, I'm sorry._

His mind was ripped out of the past. Shame and guilt washed over him like tidal waves. Tears threatened to fall, but he forcibly held them back in order to retain some dignity. Akihito took a shuddering breath. "Why?" Why keep this a secret? Why is he still friends with him? Why doesn't he shun him like the monster he is? Especially after what he did to him?

The heat under his palm was so intense, it's sickening. Maybe that was why Hiromi was so cold all of the time – this scar was leeching the heat away from every other part of his body.

"Akkey…"

"I want to know why." It came out harsher than he intended.

"There is no 'why', Akihito." He turned his head to the side ever so slightly, so Akihito could see his profile.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he grumbled.

"It means," Hiromi stated, "that you only need a 'why' when you have an ulterior motive in doing something. I didn't. It just never came up. If that counts as a 'why', have at it."

"But–"

"Or how about 'just 'cause'? Does that fit your 'why'?" Hiromi looked forwards again.

Akihito sighed in frustration and he fisted his hair with the hand that wasn't on Hiromi's back. He never gave any direct answers!

The taller boy shifted and it brought his attention back to the scar. It was so puckered and…and permanent. Slowly, his hand started traveling the length of his back, fingers lightly feeling the joining of skin. He winced as his fingers brushed a particularly rough patch. Hiromi's head fell against his chest as he sighed in what seemed to convey _I-don't-see-how-this-matters_. It did to Akihito, though.

He did this. He marred what would otherwise be the flawless surface of Hiromi Nase's back. It's his fault he's disfigured. His fault.

"Does it…does it hurt?" He gulped down bile at the thought.

"No," he said immediately. Akihito could tell he wasn't telling the whole truth.

"Maybe not now, but does it hurt you other times?"

Hiromi didn't answer. Akihito felt his face fall. "Oh." Akihito suddenly tore his hand away from Hiromi's skin as if it burned. And it did – it flooded a fire of guilt and shame through his entire body and he couldn't get away fast enough. He was still causing him pain. One mistake – one mistake and he'd lost control.

When he slipped into Youmu form, he couldn't control his actions or even remember what he did. All he had when came to was the damage around him and the horrific stories to go by. He couldn't help being half Youmu, and yet he couldn't deny one bit that it was completely his fault what he did to his friend.

It had been _his_ hands that had been soaked with Hiromi's blood. _His_ hands that had torn through the soft flesh on his back. Nausea spread through his stomach, making him dizzy. Akihito shook his head, but nothing could help sate the sickness he felt at himself at that moment. He stumbled away from Hiromi – he needed to get away.

"Akihito?" The voice was Hiromi's, but it sounded muffled as if underwater. Worried eyes met his and Akihito plastered a fake smile on his face. He could tell it wasn't a very good one from the scrutinizing gaze upon him.

"I'll see you later." And he abruptly left the room. He left the Nase mansion with haste and booked it towards the woods. He didn't know where he was heading, really, but he knew he needed somewhere he could be alone.

After a few minutes of tearing through the trees, Akihito collapsed. He fell on his knees and hugged his stomach tight as if it might try and escape. His forehead rested in the dirt and he curled into as small a ball as he could while he waited for the nausea to pass. When it did, he moved and settled for hugging his knees to his chest, back pressed against one of the trees.

Sometimes he wished he could die. Though he had never been one for suicide, it would make things a whole lot easier if he could. He wouldn't be such a threat to everybody.

Hours passed by. The moon replaced the sun in the sky and the stars began to pop out, though it was hard to see under the canopy of trees. Akihito had fallen asleep for an hour or so whilst he had been there, but other than that, the young immortal hadn't moved a muscle.

It must have been around nine at night when Akihito's stomach growled. He groaned in annoyance and buried his face in his knees. He hadn't eaten all day – and hadn't remembered the fact that he was hungry until his body decided to tell him. Now all he could think about was the gnawing hunger in his stomach.

"Sounds like you're hungry," a calm voice said in the night. Hiromi.

Akihito stiffened and curled into a deeper ball. "When did you get here?"

"I've been here for a while," was his simple answer. He came and sat down next to him.

"Why?"

Akihito heard him scoff so he lifted his head and gave him a look that said _please-just-answer-the-damn-question._

Hiromi looked away. "Why? I was worried about you." He started playing with the end of his scarf. "I wasn't sure if…I thought that maybe you'd do something stupid."

Akihito knew what he was implying and he wasn't going to deny it. The thought of purposely hurting himself had popped into his mind more than once these last few hours. Maybe it would justify the pain Hiromi always felt? He deserved it; if he couldn't die, what better way to punish someone? The only thing that had held him back was the risk. He couldn't risk purposely hurting himself or the monster within him might escape again. That, and Hiromi wouldn't accept him torturing himself.

"Well, I didn't." By Hiromi's intense glare, Akihito could tell he guessed he had been contemplating it.

"Don't you ever!" he growled, startling Akihito with its force. His expression was fierce. "There's nothing you can do about the past, Akihito. Stop moping about it and focus on what's in front of you instead."

Akihito stared wide-eyed at Hiromi's outburst.

"Got it?"

Akihito could do nothing but nod.

Hiromi's stern expression dropped suddenly and was replaced with one of quiet ease. "Okay. What do you say we go get something to eat?" He got to his feet and held out a hand for Akihito.

_Sometimes, this guy confuses me_…he thought as he was pulled up. They began the walk home in companionable silence for a change (except for the occasional grumble of Akihito's stomach).

But somethings…_somethings never change…_he thought as Hiromi fell behind him and wiggled his hands underneath his arms to rest on his warm waste.


End file.
